


Entanglement

by JavaJowgie



Series: Kinkmas in July 2020 [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Ciel is angy, Ciel’s POV, Fisting, Gags, Glove Kink, M/M, POV First Person, Power Play, Sebastian’s smug, Shibari, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25081459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JavaJowgie/pseuds/JavaJowgie
Summary: He had come back from the long carriage ride about an hour ago, disgruntled from having to travel by human standards.I immediately demanded to have him. But he had other ideas.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive
Series: Kinkmas in July 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816780
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86





	Entanglement

**Author's Note:**

> My first entry into Kinksmas 2020! I don't have the patience or creativity for each individual entry, so I'll be smushing a bunch into a few entries in a series. This one is: Orgasm control/denial, hands/gloves, power play, bondage. And.. I kinda got carried away. This was only meant to be 2.5k words. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

I suppose this was my fault, really. 

Sebastian had been sent away on a business expedition to Hastings for the day, leaving me alone. Well, not necessarily alone, as I had the other four servants. But none of them serviced me the way he did… couldn’t satisfy one desire I had. Reserved specially for Sebastian. 

He had come back from the long carriage ride about an hour ago, disgruntled from having to travel by human standards. He was dressed in his usual garb, but adapted to the cooling temperatures of Britain, donning a heavy trench coat and leather gloves that were specially handcrafted from Italy. I didn’t know what those leather gloves did to me until he stroked the soft material down my jaw and neck as he kissed me in greeting when he returned. 

I immediately demanded to have him. But he had other ideas. 

I thought I had all going according to my plans; he scooped me up once we reached his bedroom and deposited me on his bed. The mattress was far from luxurious, but I didn’t _care._ I didn’t sleep here, he didn’t sleep here-- this was a good place to rendezvous and nothing more. His lips were on me, caressing my mouth, my jaw, my neck. My silk eye patch lay forgotten on the wooden floor. His gloved fingers pried at my cravat and jacket. Pretentious pieces of clothing that were only barriers now.

But just as his hand deftly unbuttoned my vest and slipped it off, he purred, low in my ear, “My young lord needs to learn his manners.”

“What in blazes are you talking about?” I snapped, cheeks flushed. “Just— just hurry up. I’ve been waiting all day for you.”

“Need I remind you that it was under your orders that I left?” he asked, his tone playful. “Under your orders I dealt with an unscrupulous little man who decided to channel funds to his own pocket, instead of the empire you so graciously let him be a part of.” Leather-wrapped hands stroked along my ribs, my stomach, pushing down my short trousers. “I’ve been hard at work all day, and I come back to more _demands,_ my darling.” A sharp tug, and I was free of them. “Don’t I deserve a reward instead of more work?”

I trembled under his touch, his voice sliding over me like silk, but I couldn’t even begin to think of where he was even going with all of this before something caught my eye. 

Rope.

I didn’t move, didn’t question, only waited. Watched and waited as he unraveled black rope that looked rather rough— no silk, like anything he usually used on me. I could only imagine how it would feel if he tied it too tight. His specialty was binding me with something soft and then using that as he fucked me roughly and left marks to bleed and bruise. 

He made me lock my arms behind my back as he wrapped it around my chest. Elegantly, smoothly, he formed knots and patterns with the rope to criss-cross over my skin in dark strings, tightly binding my arms behind me. My shoulders strained with the effort, swallowing hard at the uncomfortable friction it caused me when I moved.

I looked down and found that he had made a pentagram over my chest. I couldn’t help but comment. “How original,” I breathed. 

But my amusement was short lived. It was rare when insecurities took hold of me, but as I saw that black rope squeezing and binding my flesh, just under the pit of my arm and bottom of my sternum, I was overcome by a hint of shame. I was a boy, completely flat. Small, stunted, curveless. Bones and ribs. Would Sebastian have liked it better if I had a woman’s figure? Women fall on their asses on numerous occasions to try and get his attention. What was stopping him from finding enjoyment somewhere else?

“I _am_ a demon, after all. That fact you like to remind me of often.”

“You _are.”_

Sebastian stepped back from me for a moment. I jerked to bring him back, grasp his arm, but I was cruelly reminded of my predicament. I hissed as rope rubbed at my skin. 

He chuckled. Dark and amused. Sebastian stood only a few feet away from me, sliding his heavy coat from his shoulders. Then came his tailcoat. I thanked a God I didn’t believe in that he kept those gloves on. He must’ve _known._ Soft black leather was far more enticing than the white cotton he always wore. The demon rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows, clipping them in place with the garters at his biceps. 

More rope. He wasn’t just going to stop with my arms, was he? Typical. He always had to go above and beyond.

He set me on my back and lifted my hips. It crossed and wrapped around my waist, hips, under my ass, between my legs, halfway down my thighs. I was more than embarrassed to be panting from just this. The touch of his gloves, the ways the rope tantalizingly brushed my most sensitive places. But he didn’t touch my want, fattening with growing desire against my stomach.

One more round of rope. He sat me up and bound my thighs to my calves, folding my legs in half and spreading them out on the bed. From the way my back was arched, there was no way in hell I could look away from the sight without craning my neck back. 

“You look delectable like that, my Lord,” he said, using two fingers to tug ever so lightly at the ropes biting into the skin of my ass, moving them _just so,_ their rough texture rubbing at the sensitive parts of my inner thighs. 

I hissed through clenched teeth as I stared at him. “Do you plan on teasing me to death, you damn devil?”

He smiled. Those eyes of his began to simmer. “Good boys need to learn to be patient. Ask nicely.”

“I’m _not_ a _good boy,_ Sebastian. I’m your—”

 _"Ah-ah-ah,”_ he chided, cutting me off and wagging a leather finger in front of my eyes. "Little _tyrants_ get nothing. Only more torment. Are you going to be pleasant to me?”

I looked up at him, almost shocked at his boldness. _“No,”_ I hissed. 

“Very well,” he said simply. I watched him as he loosened his tie with one hand, tactfully removing it from his neck. He folded the dark silk into a neat strip.

 _“Sebastian,”_ I warned. 

He grinned. “It amazes me, my Lord, that you can be hogtied and still have a smart mouth. I have half a mind to smack that out of you.”

“I _dare_ you.”

A gasp wrenched itself from my throat at the unexpected impact. The back of Sebastian’s hand collided with my right cheek. Not too hard, but my skin still _stung._ The next moment, my vision was obstructed, his tie wrapped around my head. “Challenging those who dominate you will earn you some nasty consequences, darling.”

“You _fucking--”_ I swallowed hard, trying to slow my breathing just so I could pinpoint where exactly that bastard was. _Demons._ Sebastian could stand still, motionless, so that not even a bat could detect him. I huffed, saying under my breath, “This is _not_ what I had in mind when I said I wanted you to fuck me. I expected to be bent over my fucking desk, not tied up on your bed.” The tone in my voice was more venomous than I had planned, but he deserved it.

His voice came like a thousand echoes all around me. The source was unknown. “You did not _ask_ … you _demanded._ Do I need to muzzle you, as well?”

“You _wouldn’t.”_

“I would.”

It was a useless challenge, like it always was, trying to pry into his demon’s subconscious with daring words. 

I heard the palpable sound of metal on metal before I felt the air in front of me shift, and I knew he was holding something in front of me. I flinched my head back.

A gloved hand was in my hair, gently caressing the back of my head, though careful not to disturb the tie. “I promise to make this enjoyable for you, as well, yes? Let me have my fun.” Something ghosted my lips. I could hear the faint metal clink, the texture of a soft rubber-like substance against my lips.

I flinched again. “Is that… a fucking _bit?_ For my _horses?”_

“Modified for your comfort, my Lord,” he said. 

Was that supposed to be reassuring? “You absolute _fiend._ If you think I’m going to let you _gag me,_ too, then you’re seriously mistaken. You’re lucky enough you got as far as you did.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to the apple of my cheek, just under the tie. His voice sounded in my ear, low, almost a whisper. “Trust me.”

I was almost appalled by how gentle his kisses were when he was going such things to me. My mouth twitched, ready to order him to drop it. It was one thing getting tied up like a piece of meat ready to be tenderized— but another to be gagged _and_ blindfolded in the process.

Upon hearing no other complaints or insults, his hand was at my chin. And I opened my jaw for him.

 _I hate you,_ was the last thing that died on my tongue before that rubber bit was pushed into my mouth. I sank my teeth into that bar and began to wonder if I’d even need to bite down onto something in the near future. Just what the fuck was he planning?

“Good boy,” he hummed, stroking the back of my neck as he clicked those buckles into place. 

He said that just to get a rise out of me. A low, disgusted growl sounded from behind the gag. Now he’s _really_ done it. Here I kneel, bound in rope, unable to see or speak, spread wide open and already drooling. What more did he fucking want? Was this seriously the _reward_ he wanted? To humiliate his master?

I was now shudderingly aware of my surroundings. I could only feel and hear. The chilly temperature of the room tormented my skin, gooseflesh rising in result, my ears perking at any sound. I could vaguely hear the other servants bumbling about upstairs and it mortified me to know just how close we all were to each other. Their high and proper master… like _this_ just below their feet.

“Relax,” he whispered, his tone low and honeyed, directly into my ear. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. “Relax, darling,” Sebastian cooed. It certainly sounded like some incubus luring his prey in for the kill.

A leather fingertip against my skin. I jumped at the touch, unknowing where it came from, or where the next would. Or _if_ there would be a next one. Perhaps Sebastian intended to leave me here like this until I went mad. Breathing through my nose and hogtied on his bed.

He’d get off on it. I know him well enough for that.

“My, you’re certainly sensitive like this, hm?” the demon mused, purposefully avoiding making contact with the bed. I’d be able to sense his weight shifting the mattress.

It continued. On and on for what seemed like hours. Torment. Absolute torment.

It felt like a thousand hands were on me at once. Leather-wrapped and merciless, groping me, pulling at the ropes, too-gently stroking. But again… he never touched where I wanted it most, the damn bastard. Focused everywhere else, though: Everywhere sensitive he could reach from my kneeling position; my inner thighs, just where thigh met pelvis, just above my pubic bone. Under my arms. My ribs. My tailbone. I was used to his touch from being with him for so long, but the deprivation of one of my senses made everything so much more intense.

Not even for one second did he touch my ass or my cock. 

An evil chuckle was rumbled from somewhere in front of me. “I said you’d enjoy it, no? I never lie to you.”

I hated it. I hated him. My cock throbbed painfully, fully hard and gummy against my stomach. I felt so _gross,_ the lewdness of my position and the inevitable spit and slobber that leaked past the rubber of the gag. It dripped down my chin and into the sheets below to join the messy stain of precum under me.

“You know very well you could order me to do whatever you wish, force me to stop even without speaking. Through the contract burned into our bodies. But you like this, don’t you?” He mocked me. Each word that came out of his goddamn mouth was a direct hit to my pride.

I couldn’t speak, of course. Only a low noise came from my throat. 

“Would you like to be touched, my Lord?” he whispered, hands brushing my bound thighs. My muscles twitched in response. “You’re positively leaking.”

A growl. I wanted to sound menacing, warning, but it came out horribly doglike. 

“Yes or no, young master. It’s not that difficult, even for you.”

The bastard knew I couldn’t form a full word. Again, I tried to snarl in warning. 

I bit down into a gag when another smack met my cheek. Leather sang through the air before colliding with the fattest part of my face, the unfortunate baby-fat cheek that prevented other nobles from taking me seriously. I couldn’t help but let out a pathetic whimper. Sebastian’s gloved hand smeared over my dripping chin with a chuckle. “Nod or shake your head for me. Would you like me to touch you?”

I had to nod.

“Or would you like me to leave you like this?”

I shook my head as I tried awkwardly to suck some saliva back into my mouth. I felt Sebastian only tighten the bit at the action. Even with the soft leather, the pressure dug uncomfortably into the corners of my mouth, stretching my lips in an unpleasant way. 

_Goddamn fucking bastard is going to get it later._

“If you can look at me with something other than ire, I might consider putting an end to your torment, darling.” My face was a mess of tense muscles. Brows drawn together, teeth clenched, eyes narrowed behind the tie. He rubbed at my smarting cheek that still stung. _“Relax,”_ he purred again. 

Maybe I’ll tie _him_ up next time. 

What other sort of expression did he _expect_ me to have? Eventually, though, I tried to swallow down the built-up spit in the back of my mouth and leaned into his touch. He glided leather over my warm skin, stroking behind my ear, tracing that small blue stud. I’m positive he noticed my breathing even out. 

“Good boy,” he said again.

I resisted the protesting noise threatening to crawl up my throat. But whatever sound that was going to come out was promptly silenced as a hand wrapped around my dripping want, smearing precum over the gummy tip. I twitched and jerked in his grasp.

He hummed, low in his throat, “Let’s leave this tormenting situation, shall we?”

I could only give him a small, muffled groan in response. I knew if I caused any more irritation for him it would only end in more teasing. Now _that,_ I knew I didn’t want. 

I felt both of his hands on my shoulders, and I was being pushed down. Where I used to kneel, I was now face-down, my hot cheek to the white bedsheets. The ropes that still bound my limbs made my body contort oddly; ass propped up in the air, back bent like a bow. God, if I thought _kneeling_ was embarrassing…

I felt Sebastian’s gaze on me. Eyeing me up like a piece of meat at the London markets. I couldn’t say anything snarky, no biting remarks to make myself feel better and put him in his place, however feeble that attempt might be. 

Just… anything. Anything but the deafening silence in this awkward situation. The rational part of my mind told me it was ridiculous to feel ashamed in front of this creature. He plucked me from a grimy cell three years ago while I was covered in piss and vomit and blood. Was there really any secrecy or shame to be left between us? He’s seen me at the pit of humiliation _and_ the peak of grandeur.

Then I felt the bed shift and dip with his careful weight. He situated himself behind me, most likely kneeling himself, as he used those big gloved hands to roam the perfectly-presented flesh before him. Like a Christmas gift wrapped perfectly for him. 

I felt breath on my backside. I longed to feel his tongue against me. He always mocked me for it, purring dirty things into my skin about how much I liked to get licked on the inside. It was his fault for making it feel so good— his long, demonic tongue reached places I didn’t think a tongue could. 

So I sighed, and waited for it, happily humming as those leather hands stroked over my ass, down my tense thighs.

But it never came. 

_“Mm?”_ I hummed from behind the gag, though the sound was quieter than I would have liked. 

He didn’t touch my cock, no courteous stroking before he did anything else to me. But no, I felt a big, fat glob of hot, demonic saliva drip onto my hole and slide down the back of my testicles. Then another, and one more. _Ugh._

Then came a finger. His still-gloved hand rubbed and worked that gobbet of spit into me, sliding in one finger as he went. All the way to the knuckle. Smoothly, as expected. I’d been conditioned to such things. As he planned, of course. I shivered at the motion, the soft texture of his lambskin gloves so _strange_ inside my core, but far from unpleasant. 

The bastard bent over me, and an amused chuckle was uttered against the small of my back. I could practically feel his smile. 

“Is the leather as pleasant on the inside as it is on the outside, my little lord?”

My chest heaved, and I was unwilling to answer him. 

“ _You_ specially picked them out, as it is,” he said, his tone far too casual for this situation. “You, my Lord… wanted me to look as the London gentleman does, even though I have no need for luxuries such as imported gloves when I had perfectly adequate cotton ones already. Now tell me…” he trailed off, another considerable glob wetting my no doubt now-red hole, “do you think a nobleman such as yourself could take the whole glove?” Sebastian asked, drawing out the last word as he slipped one more finger into me. 

My eyes shot open under the blindfold. His _whole fist?_ Is he fucking serious?

He moved his wrist just so, slowly beginning to move his two fingers in and out of me, too-gently massaging my inner walls. I wriggled in anticipation, wanting that hand to do so much more. 

“You mustn’t have any objections, surely. You’ve taken far more before, if my memory serves me correctly…”

I tried to swallow. Yes, I remembered. How could I forget that time many nights ago when I begged for him after a night terror, crying out so loudly and clinging to him so tightly that he broke from his human guise? His cock in that form was easily two times as large as he usually was. Darkly colored and knotted at the base. _Of course I remember, you damn demon._

I found myself drooling at the thought. Why can't he just fuck me with his _cock_ and leave it at that? Was it too much _fun_ to shove his fist up my arse?

“Your belly bulged delightfully that night.”

I _know,_ I wanted to hiss. Do it again and stop whatever _this_ is.

He sensed my frustration. I tried to be relaxed, as he so requested, but that proved to be difficult with all of his mocking and the fact of his hand’s actions right now. It was rightfully distracting; two thick fingers moved in and out of me with breathtaking fluidity.

A kiss to my raised ass. A third finger. The stretch was beginning to burn with the prickings of discomfort. 

I breathed deeply through my nose when he spat one last time. It had me longing for his tongue, but something in the back of my mind said I wouldn’t be getting that tonight. 

Then he hooked those three fingers and I nearly squealed. An ugly, muffled sound wrenched from my gagged mouth at the eclectic pleasure that sparked my nerves, heightened them even further. He hit that spot again with a sinister chuckle.

Panting and drooling like some back alley whore, I clenched my eyes shut and waited for another snarky comment from that serpentine mouth. 

_“Mmmm… Se—bash— Seb—”_ I tried to call his name. Faster, faster. Just a little more. The familiar pull in my core promised a blissful release.

Then he pulled his hand away. 

_Bastard!_

Sebastian hummed, his other hand pulling at the rope at the back of my thigh that connected to knots near my groin. 

An unavoidable groan left me at both the uncomfortable rubbing of the rough material and just how sensitive I was.

I couldn’t toss it all to hell and buck my hips into the sheets or rut on a pillow to bring me the release he denied me. I could hardly even _move._ My struggling was useless, as it had been this entire time. I wanted to glare at him, to pierce him with my annoyance using the violet eye that bound him to me.

He waited. Watched and waited, pulling ropes this way and that as my near-orgasm high subsided. 

Just as it did, he slipped them in again. All three of them.

“And you stay open for me. How delightful,” he remarked.

My fists clenched, my toes curled, as that forth finger was added. That remark was a threat and a warning.

I bit down, hard, into the gag when my ass stretched to accommodate all four of his knuckles. 

_“Mmnh! Mm!”_

Still, he pushed, and I felt his thumb push into my wet ring of muscle. The ropes hurt and burned and rubbed my skin raw when I struggled. I wanted to move, to clutch onto something and _scream._

“Good boy. All the way to my wrist.”

My cheeks burned, and I wanted to shove my face into the sheets to hide my expressions from him. _Fuck you. Fuck off. Finish me off and go die._

“Filthy little slattern of an earl, hm?”

I shrieked into the gag and wet the tie with tears as he pounded into me. I hated that it felt good. I hated how easily I took it all. 

I could feel Sebastian’s breath on my neck. I was so small compared to him; he could easily lean over me and cover his body with mine, which… I never complained about. He pressed his lips to my shoulder blades and whispered into my ear, nipping at the pierced lobe.

I didn’t pay attention to his words, and I didn’t even try to envision what I looked like at the moment. I did, though, try to imagine that fist pounding into my guts was his cock. Or a toy. Not a fucking _fist._ But oh… the texture of the leather. His strong fingers that could rip me apart, yet open me up in delightful ways. The fingers that made me sweets and protected me from others that weren’t _him._

Even my fiancé at times. Having a possessive demon has its perks.

I tried not to moan into the rubber as an announcing sound to my building release. I only let him keep pounding at me, crooking his fingers into that bundle of nerves. _Fuck._

_Let me finish. Let me finish, goddamn it._

Each and every muscle clenched and protested. I screamed into the rubber gag when he let me. Maybe I didn’t hide it well, but maybe he had a stroke of pity. My brow furrowed almost painfully with the force of my release. 

I fell limp. As limp as the ropes would let me be, and panted through my nose like a fucking horse to get any semblance of my calm pulse back. 

He slowly withdrew his hand, stopping for a moment before opening his fingers, stretching my sensitive walls until I resisted, grumbling and grunting in protest. Sebastian breathed a satisfied laugh into my hair before rolling me over. So I lay there below him: filthy, fist-fucked open and gaping.

Then he leant over once more and kissed me. Over the gag. I just barely felt the touch of him, his lips pressing to the spit-slicked rubber. An involuntary grunt left my lips. I want to _feel_ and respond to each and every one of his kisses— it wasn’t _fair_ he did that. He just _liked_ torturing me. That’s what this whole night was about. 

I moaned disapprovingly around the gag, my voice distorted and muffled.

“You want to say something, Young Master?”

I nodded eagerly.

“I suppose I can free you for a moment,” he said, his voice light and musing, as if he didn’t have his whole hand up my ass not two seconds ago. He reached behind me and undid the buckle of the bit. I spat it from between my teeth and licked the sore corners of my lips. 

“Kiss me,” I snapped. “Kiss me _properly.”_

A dark, velvety chuckle sounded from in front of me before he followed through with my demands. I couldn’t reach and grab for him and tangle my fingers in his smooth hair… all I could do was lay there and hum into the kiss. Warm and wet, he tilted his face and locked his mouth with mine, and I happily parted my lips for him when he swiped his tongue over my lower lip. 

Much to my disappointment, he pulled away, leaving me foolishly waiting for another caress. Instead, he pressed something else to my lips. I was still unable to see, that tie preventing me from doing so, but I could tell from the texture that it was his spit-slicked glove against my lips. 

“If you’ll assist me, my Lord.”

I huffed against the dirtied leather. However, I obliged, ready to be done with this farce and feel his skin on mine. I licked that dripping filth from the material before biting into the tip and pulling to free his hand. 

I shivered when his bare skin touched my bound thighs. 

It was too much. I couldn’t take much more of this. To hell with my fucking pride— every bit of it had been stripped the second he put that bit in my mouth. I had to be honest with myself. “Fuck me. Please.”

 _“Please?_ My, you’re learning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank u for the fisting idea, Vex! And thanks to griever, once again, for being my beta <3
> 
> More kink to come! Don't worry your pretty little heads!


End file.
